


under the mistletoe

by lookoutlovers



Series: winter prompts [4]
Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, M/M, Prompt Fill, and eliott, and making out, dumbass behaviour from lucas, i wont apologise for it, there is no plot to this it is literally just fluff, they are chaos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-27
Updated: 2019-12-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:54:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,178
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21989140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lookoutlovers/pseuds/lookoutlovers
Summary: for the prompt:we get drunk at the christmas party and steal the mistletoe so no one else can kiss.
Relationships: Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant
Series: winter prompts [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553281
Comments: 18
Kudos: 177





	under the mistletoe

**Author's Note:**

> prompt is from this [winter writing prompts list.](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/post/189251006867/veronicabunchwrites-100-wintery-prompts-for-all)
> 
> also posted on my tumblr [here](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/post/189902383087/if-you-will-feel-inspired-then-18-it-just)
> 
> i was supposed to post this on christmas eve, hence the christmas eve party. but i took too many naps and here we are 3 days later, i hope u all enjoy!! 💖
> 
> title - under the mistletoe by justin bieber (ask me if i have lost it (i have))

The _coloc_ Christmas eve party had commenced like the dawning of a cosmic explosion.

_The universe, as it is, begun as a cloud of dust._

Lucas, Mika, Lisa and Manon spend the entire day tidying and decorating the apartment, hanging tinsel and fairy lights from the ceilings and walls in a way, that, when the main lights are switched off, it gives off the illusion of a million tiny stars twinkling above within their cramped living area. It makes Lucas feel like he’s floating within the deepest folds of space instead of standing on the hardwood floor in the small walkway between their sofa and coffee table.

_This dust, as it orbits a centre, revolving at a speed incomprehensible, is overpowered by gravity—her force twining each particle together as it gravitates towards the centre._

People start to filter in around seven, bottles of wine and gifts gradually stacking under the protection of the Christmas tree. It starts off slow, a little apprehensive. People lingering at the edges of each room chatting idly, drinks freshly poured and barely touched.

_Then, this centre, when it grows until it’s so large it implodes under its own mass, it does so miraculously._

As the night progresses, as the consumption of drinks becomes more frequent in duration, the floor stickier and the rooms increasingly sweatier, people flood into the middle of the living room. The volume of music is cranked up, and everyone is singing and dancing like the world might not even exist tomorrow.

_With such a monumental implosion, however, comes with the igniting of a sun. The sun, in its golden eminence, ravishing and bright as it comes to life and shines over all, is stunning. Its presence is overwhelming and iridescent in comparison to the mere existence of anything else—it is nonpareil._

_And, then, there is light._

Eliott arrives a little later than most, but his arrival is nothing short of paramount. Lucas travels at lightspeed from the corner of the living room, elbowing through the masses on the makeshift dancefloor and into the entryway of the apartment where Eliott stands, arms wide awaiting Lucas to leap into.

“I missed you so much,” Lucas mumbles into the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. His legs are wrapped around Eliott’s waist, arms clinging onto his neck in a strangling vice-like grip.

Eliott squeezes Lucas’ body tightly, laughter soft and pretty. “It’s only been four days, baby,” he says back. Lucas shakes his head, “ _too long_.”

Any length of time spent without Eliott in his arms is too long.

Eliott places Lucas safely back onto the floor, his hands travelling to cup his cheeks and pull him into a kiss.

And, this—this is where the universe truly begins, for Lucas. Here, completely surrounded with the people he loves, entirely encompassed by the love of his life. Warm lips, soft hands, rapid heartbeats. Life falls into motion, everything makes sense.

A universe is created.

“How was Lyon?” Lucas asks, breaking away from Eliott’s lips, breath still stolen from his lungs.

He lets their foreheads rest together, aching to be close and longing for Eliott’s familiar warmth.

“It was good,” Eliott murmurs, eyes still shut, savouring the ghost of their first kiss in four days. Then, smiling, he says, “My grandmother sent a present back, for you.”

Lucas lets out a surprised laugh, “For me?”

Eliott hums, “Yeah. For you.”

It still shocks Lucas, sometimes, how he’s managed to grow from feeling so alone, to having found a family so large he can’t even count them on two hands.

“You can open it tomorrow, when you come over for dinner?”

Lucas nods, and kisses Eliott again, because the pretty smile that traces his lips and softens the edges of his eyes is enthralling and it is bliss. It’s beautiful. Lucas loves him so much.

***  
  


Later, scattered around the living room tucked into corners far too small for the number of people present, the festivities commence.

Secret Santa comes first. Manon gets a baking set from Daphné, Alexia gets a pair of rainbow socks from Lisa, Lucas watches giddily as Basile unwraps the _Fifa for dummies_ book he had gotten him. Afterwards, with the karaoke set Arthur had got for Imane, Emma and Yann are the first to bless the room with a drunken duet of _All I Want For Christmas Is You,_ which, is painful to the ears but hilarious all the same.

It starts off as an innocent curiosity—the way Lucas watches Basile lead Daphné towards the doorway of the living room, how they both glance up and grin, before leaning in to kiss one another. There’s a chorus of cheers throughout the room, and Lucas diverts his gaze over to Eliott at the opposite end of the sofa, where he laughs easily with Idriss, and the feeling transforms into something different.

Something a little mischievous, perhaps.

And, then, later again, as everyone else takes their turns with the karaoke machine, as the day drags on from late afternoon to evening, when the wrapping paper that creates a swarm of colour on the floor is swept to one side and the music resumes its previous amplification, Lucas and Eliott slip away.

“Where are we going?” Eliott giggles into the back of Lucas’ neck, tipsy off the cheap wine Emma had bought them as a gift.

Lucas catches Eliott’s hands from where they wind around his waist from behind, giggling when they both stumble because of how close Eliott is pressed against his back as they attempt to descend down the narrow hallway.

“Somewhere,” he implies, deviously, glancing behind him to smirk at Eliott who hums happily into Lucas’ skin.

“ _Oh_. Well, okay.”

Lucas leads Eliott further down the hallway, a stream of mellow laughter spilling in their wake. He stops just at the doorway of his bedroom, the door left ajar, purposely. Lucas can’t help the ginormous grin that spreads across his face at the expectant twinge between Eliott’s eyebrows.

He turns, leaning against one edge of the doorframe, Eliott falls back against the other so that they’re facing each other under the arch of the doorway.

Lucas tilts his head back and thinks, that, beneath the haze that has diffused throughout his head and within his bones, Eliott looks eminently beautiful like this. This, like the coolness which overpowers the sky during _blue hour_ , the silver glow of _a moonbow_ that emerges once moonlight infiltrates a raindrop, the vivid flames of blue that intertwine with a rich green to ignite the sky during _an aurora_.

Like the extraordinary contingency of natural phenomena, it takes Lucas’ breath away.

The longer Lucas stands there, however, completely enamoured by his boyfriend’s beauty, the deeper the confused lines across Eliott’s face seem to set into place.

“What?” Eliott questions, a soft glint of intrigue in his eyes.

Lucas looks away from him, a little embarrassed to be caught staring so unabashedly, even after all these months.

“Nothing,” Lucas murmurs, but then, because he can’t quite help himself, “You’re beautiful,” he picks at his nail beds, bottom lip pulled under his teeth, “I love you.”

Eliott blushes at the unexpectedness of it. It’s pretty—the light glow of crimson against the paleness of his winter touched skin.

“I love you, too,” Eliott says. Lucas’ heart does that same little fluttering motion it always seems to do when Eliott mutters those words. As overwhelming as the very first time and as tender as every time that follows after. “But,” Eliott continues suggestively, “are we just going to stand here in the doorway, or?”

Lucas finds the end of Eliott’s t-shirt to pinch between his fingertips, likes how absentmindedly the gesture falls over them, how Eliott doesn’t even flinch as much as blink.

He has a playful glint forcing its way behind the grey of his eyes, though, and Lucas knows what Eliott perhaps _thinks_ this is, him sneaking them away to his bedroom after four days apart.

And, as enticing as that sounds, Lucas has a much better plan.

Lucas shakes his head, cheeks aching, still, from the impossibility of controlling his smile around someone so otherworldly.

“What, then?” Eliott asks.

Lucas glances up, then, tilts his chin along with the movement. Eliott follows Lucas’ eyes, up and up and up, until—

“ _Oh._ ”

There, suspended above their heads in the centre of Lucas’ doorframe in which they both stand under, is the emerald foliole of a mistletoe swathed with red ribbon. It looks down at them, as though waiting, daring, the flame of a match ready to set the moment alight.

Eliott gasps.

Lucas giggles, “I mean,” he shrugs, feigning indifference, “I don’t know how that got there, but…”

Eliott laughs, “Oh, it got up there all on its own, then, did it?”

“Must have,” Lucas whispers, breath catching in his throat when Eliott moves dangerously closer in the small space they’re crowded into, backing him further into the edge of the doorframe.

Eliott hums, unconvinced but fondly, so.

He kisses Lucas, then, finally. It feels like coming home—the way their lips slot together so fluently, how the warmth of Eliott’s breath burns Lucas’ skin from the inside out. It’s intoxicating, push and pull like a tide, Eliott’s hands cupping Lucas’ face to tilt it in just the way he likes it, the perfect angle to deepen the kiss in a way that makes Lucas’ toes curl.

When they break away briefly for air, Lucas lets out a strangled breath into the space between their mouths, but Eliott is diving back in immediately, like a magnetic force caving its way though the dark. Lucas wraps his arms around Eliott’s neck to pull him down and c _loser_.

Always aching to be closer.

But, then, devastatingly, like a gunshot in the dead of night, “ _Hey!_ ”

They stumble apart, lips swollen, eyes wide to the sight of Mika standing there with his arms folded, a pointed look on his face.

“I was wondering where that had gotten to.” Mika points up towards the mistletoe.

Lucas blinks, still in half a daze from the way Eliott had licked slowly into his mouth just a mere three seconds ago.

“Well, bring it back into the living room where I had it hung originally. So everyone else can have a chance,” Mika orders. Lucas feels his heart sink.

The thought of anyone else, someone other than Eliott experiencing the magic touch of Christmas in the form of a mistletoe kiss seems wrong. Albeit selfish, likely, Lucas doesn’t want that. Plus, he is slightly tipsy, in his defence.

Lucas can only blink again, but thankfully Eliott is able to muster up some words. “We’ll bring it back in a second.”

Mika nods, seemingly satisfied as he returns to the party with a smile.

As soon as he’s gone, however, Eliott is looking at Lucas, a teasing scandalised expression on his face. “You _stole_ this?” he hisses incredulously, gesturing towards the mistletoe.

Lucas frowns, “I didn’t steal anything!”

Eliott shakes his head, humming unconvinced but he’s smiling nonetheless. “That’s incredibly childish of you, Lucas.”

“Shut up!” Lucas laughs, rolling his eyes. Doesn’t say how, now, he really does want to steal the damn thing so no one else can kiss tonight like Eliott had just kissed him.

Lucas rises onto his tiptoes to retrieve the mistletoe, but Eliott is quick to snap it down first, shoving it into his jacket pocket.

“Eliott!” Lucas whines, attempting to reach into Eliott’s pocket, but he only twists away. “Eliott, give me the mistletoe, we have to put it back.”

Eliott quirks his lips, “What mistletoe?”

Lucas freezes, looks into Eliott’s eyes and likes the flicker of mischief he catches lingering there.

And, well—okay. Looks like they’re on the same page here, then.

***

They return to the main party room, maybe looking a little guilty, but most are too drunk to notice, anyway. So, for the most part, it works out fine.

Lucas breaks away from Eliott to dance with Emma and Manon for a while, then to chat shit with Yann, Arthur and Basile in the kitchen briefly. He then finds Idriss and Sofiane by the snacks and cheers along when Idriss manages to catch two m&m’s in his mouth at once.

He makes a conscious effort to avoid Mika at all costs, and it has nothing to do with the mistletoe that he still is yet to return to its rightful place.

It’s a bit of a difficult task to achieve, though, especially in that of an apartment so small.

“Lucas,” Mika stumbles up to Lucas just as he’s about to head to the bathroom, clearly past the point of tipsy. “The mistletoe?” he asks, “I have a feeling tonight is _the night_ , you know? For Arthur and Alexia.”

And, while Lucas is all here for being a top wingman, really, he swears any other day he would be vibrating with the urgency to help his best friend get with his crush. Tonight is a little different. Tonight, Lucas is a good level of tipsy, tonight, Lucas is with Eliott for the first time in four days, and, quite frankly, he’s feeling a little like he wants to cling to the boy and never let go.

Mistletoe is convenient, in that sense.

“I put it back,” Lucas rushes out.

Mika frowns, “You did? I didn’t—”

“—I really have to go," Lucas interjects, gesturing towards the bathroom, backing away from Mika stealthily.

“Lucas—” Mika yells.

The bathroom door snapping shut cuts him off.

***

Later, Lucas stumbles into Eliott’s arms.

“Hi,” Eliott murmurs against Lucas’ hair. “You okay?”

Lucas nods, humming contently. Eliott’s arms are warm like a blanket on a cold winter’s day, he melts into it.

“Tired?” he asks.

Lucas nods again. They’re in the kitchen now, alone, and it’s just gone half past eleven, which, isn’t late at all, but Lucas will admit, the drink is catching up to him. That familiar giddy buzz simmering down to a lazy fatigue which leaves his bones feeling achy and his eyes heavy.

“Do you want to head to bed? Or we can go back to mine?”

The thought of curling into bed right now, with Eliott’s familiar warmth radiating next to him, sounds like the best idea Eliott has ever had. But Lucas promised his flatmates that he would stick tonight out, since he’s leaving them tomorrow to spend Christmas with his mother in the morning and then with Eliott’s family in the evening.

Nuzzling his nose against the soft cotton of Eliott’s t-shirt, Lucas murmurs a weak, “Not yet.” And then, because he is tired and craving kisses, “The mistletoe?”

Eliott laughs breathily, his own nose brushing against Lucas’ cheek. He pulls the mistletoe from his pocket, “You want it?”

Lucas shakes his head, removing himself from Eliott’s hold just enough to reach for Eliott’s wrist and push it upwards so that the mistletoe hangs above them once more.

“Like this,” Lucas whispers.

Eliott smiles, Lucas’ request clicking into place, thankfully. And he leans down to catch Lucas’ lips in a tender kiss.

These kinds of kisses, Lucas thinks, are his favourite kind of kisses. The lazy ones. The ones that are laced with delicacy and filled with so much soft unspoken. The, _I’m tired but I want you close to me_ , kisses, _I want to memorise your lips and keep the feeling with me even when I’m dreaming,_ kisses.

Eliott hums, pulling Lucas close, his lips warm, and soft, always so soft. It makes Lucas feel dizzy.

His arm drops after a while, most likely overcome with an ache and an urge to hold Lucas instead of the mistletoe.

They kiss, like that, for god knows how long. All Lucas knows is that he feels breathless and like his bones have been hallowed out only to be refilled with warm honey. Although, it doesn’t progress beyond the point of an innocent worshiping of each other’s lips. The slow dragging of their hands on each other matching that of their tongues.

Eliott pulls away, but not without peppering a few small lingering kisses to Lucas’ now red raw lips, then his nose, and forehead, and back to his lips, again.

And, as much as Lucas would love to stay here, with Eliott, forever, someone is poking their head into the kitchen (Lucas thinks it might have been Manon, but his head feels too cloudy to check) and summoning them back into the living room.

They go, not easily, but reluctancy, and with the promise of more kisses later mumbled into the soft skin behind Lucas’ ear.

***

Once midnight surpasses, Lucas decides that it is time to throw all fucks out of the balcony window.

Admittedly, Lucas has never been one for public displays of affection—is something he would frequently turn his nose up at just one year ago. But, that’s a little bit impossible, now, you see, when you’re dating someone as winsome as Eliott so naturally is.

“Mhfh,” Lucas grunts against Eliott’s lips as Eliott’s hands fist into his hips more tightly.

Lucas has the mistletoe in his own possession, now, after peeling it from Eliott’s faltering grip mid lip bite. Lucas separates their lips to rest their foreheads together, noses touching softly, then, slowly, he brushes the mistletoe along Eliott’s cheek. Eliott, who has his eyes shut, still, smiles. And it’s beautiful, how tender the moment is even when enclosed in a sweaty room blasting with music, even when Lucas can’t exactly see past the blurry lines of his boyfriend’s face, it is still the most mesmerising sight on earth.

“Baby,” Eliott whispers. It’s too quiet for Lucas to catch over the loud music, but he’s still able to track the movement of Eliott’s lips to understand. “If we keep kissing like this, I’m not going to be able to make it the rest of the night.”

Lucas giggles breathily, “Sorry,” and then, tucking the mistletoe behind Eliott’s ear, “I just love kissing you.”

“Me too,” Eliott smiles blissfully. The mistletoe looks pretty like that, or, rather, Eliott looks pretty like that. Lucas thinks he might start putting flowers in Eliott’s hair more often, make it a thing.

He pulls Eliott into another kiss.

Like this, with the thump of music reverberating deep within Lucas’ chest, the beating of his heart catches onto a profound rhythm. A rhythm that latches onto the thudding of Eliott’s alike, chests touching, heartbeats matching, as though they are one.

Lucas thinks, distantly, that they probably are.

It’s just past midnight, and Mika has since given up trying to fight for the mistletoe back. Lucas decides that it is probably for the best. Since it sits comfortably and with beauty against Eliott’s face, where, if, Lucas looks up from just the right angle, he can kiss Eliott wherever, and whenever he wants to, and nobody else can.

It’s the perfect scenario, really, here, in their own little galaxy, Lucas kisses Eliott until the stars come home.

And the universe falls away with them.

**Author's Note:**

> thank u for reading! 
> 
> my tumblr is [@lumierelovers](https://lumierelovers.tumblr.com/) ✨💫🌟 merry belated christmas! i love u 💖


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